For all the ways we like to bash our nation and leaders, I still like living here better than just about any place in the world. I think we get taxed too much, and I also think that the people we elect to be stewards of our financial contribution spend it way too foolishly, from the Feds right down to the local town council. You can't please everybody, so our budgets wind up somewhere in the middle give or take a few extra liberals or conservatives. As much of a left leaner as I am, I'd hate to see Cadillac social programs at the expense of unsafe bridges, or decreases in public safety. I think having 2 strong political ideologies to balance each other was exactly what the founding fathers had in mind, and I'm OK with that.
Back through the early years of this country as a collection of colonies, one idea bound the residents together; there should be no established national religion. This idea was so strong, that when we first broke away from Great Britain it was incorporated into the Constitution. Those early settlers here had witnessed first hand what having an "official" religion had done to England through history. A modern day parallel seems to be the nations which are Muslim and have a system of sharia law which is open to the interpretation of religious scholars. Doesn't matter whether you're muslim or not, you have to follow their moral code or be subject to Islamic justice. Christians have suffered for years in primarily Islamic societies, even those that are more modern and tolerant than others.
I'm a Christian. I believe that Jesus Christ was sent to establish the Lord's kingdom on Earth as the one true Son of God. That is my personal faith, and I struggle daily to live up to His code of conduct. In these United States, we are guaranteed the right to worship and live as Christians and the many different assemblies (Protestant, Catholic, Pentecostal) who all worship Christ.
I think that sometimes we twist history a bit and make a lot of assumptions about the founding fathers' stand on faith. More than a few times, I've heard Christian leaders exalt how we were founded as a "Christian" nation. It's true that most of our laws are based on Mosaic law as most of the founding fathers observed Christianity. I think if you read the First Amendment closely the words saying Congress shall "making no law establishing a religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof", you really can't glean more than 2 facts; Congress shall not establish a "state" religion, and shall not pass a law prohibiting any other religion.
Therefore, except for the "body of Christ" within this country we are in fact not a Christian nation. We are, in fact a nation of many religions; to each his own. To say otherwise would put us in the same light worldwide that Muslim nations under sharia law are viewed by the Christian world.
Christianity is not a nation. It's the heart of a number of individuals who profess their personal savior as individual parts of the "body of Christ". Part of this message clearly stated in the New Testament includes humility, forgiveness, tolerance, and a lot of other stuff that we find hardest to do when someone provokes us to anger, or causes us personal harm.
Since 9/11 there has been a growing fear of Islam and a number of malicious verbal and violent attacks on those who observe it. I can only hope that people who have righteous anger at the KKK, and American Nazi party (both of which embrace "christianity") don't view my faith in the same light as the radical muslim extremists who practice a violent offshoot of what is basically a peaceful religion.
There's a lot in the news lately about a planned mosque to be built roughly a quarter mile away from Ground Zero. Reaction has been a lot of hysteria, anger, media hype, and most prevalent; political maneuvering. There were practicing muslims who actually were victims of the 9/11 attacks.
Personally, I question the wisdom of Islamic leaders in choosing this particular spot to build. On the other hand, there's little anyone of Islamic faith could do right now that isn't under media scrutiny. A muslim could probably lynch a convicted pedophile and somehow there'd be a terrorist spin put on it.
In closing I'll say this. While Christian, and American, you can't just hold up the Constitution for protection when it suits you any more than you can profess a love for Christ whenever comfortable. In this nation, anyone has the right to build a house of worship wherever they can obtain the property. Regardless of that faith.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
Friday Night Memories of Dan
I don't have many good memories of my oldest brother Dan.
He was about 10 years older than me, and was a very angry person. I can't count on all my appendages the number of times his anger would show at my parents, or my grandmother, or me. He left home at 17; that is to say, he left our house and moved in with my grandmother. He and my father never got along well; Pop was a school teacher who believed in order and discipline and Dan was more of a free spirit who didn't like to be told what to do. Their major rift occurred when Dan was on the high school newspaper. Dan was in on a stunt that involved publishing a non-flattering story about the principal and one of the social studies teachers. There had always been a "hush hush" rumour the two were involved, and a story was published that pushed the limits of what satire high school journalists were allowed to invoke.
Dan was a bit of a self-centered guy; that is unless you asked anyone outside the family. I can't count the number of people who told me what a great guy he was. I generally remember the angry cursings he'd lay on Pop, or Mom, or Granny or occasionally me.
Tonight I read a story in the Charlotte Observer that brought back one good memory I have of my brother.
When I was about 8 or so, my grandmother lived across an empty field behind our house in a small neighborhood called Dal Wan Heights. You could see her home from my backyard, and that's the neighborhood I grew up in. Usually on the weekends, it was a big deal for me to walk across that field around dusk and spend the night on her living room sofa. Starting around 8, I could have the television to watch sitcoms like Brady Bunch, Love Boat, Sanford & Son, Fantasy Island, and then if I wasn't too tired I'd stay up for either the Late Show movie or saturday Night Live.
As Dan was in his late teens, he'd be out carousing with his buddies. Never a drinker or partier, he'd roll in around 11:30 or midnight and more often than not he had a Village Inn Pizza and 2 liter Pepsi tucked under his arm.
As much of a "pest" as I was, he'd usually offer me a slice or two of his pizza and pour me a glass of Pepsi. We'd then retire to his bedroom where he'd switch on his TV and turn it to reruns of Mid Atlantic Championship Wrestling.
There, we'd cheer on his favorites; Ric Fair & Greg Valentine, Sergeant Slaughter, The Four Horsemen, and a host of others whose names I've long forgotten. Occasionally, we'd have the beginning of a "deep" philosophical conversation, but usually it was a lot lighter. I think he just was really lonely and wanted some company before he slept.
Sometime after about 2AM, back in those days the National Anthem would play announcing the end of the broadcast day, then go to a test pattern. I'd retreat to the living room, and sleep until Granny woke around 9 and made me silver dollar pancakes with bacon.
Dan brought a lot of grief to my parents. He never really was able to support himself, and always seemed to make poor decisions about money management and the people in his life. In retrospect, he had a number of self esteem issues and was never able to establish anything more than superficial interpersonal relationships. The really sad thing is that he overlooked the very people in his family that could have been his cornerstone.
Still, on nights like tonight when I take inventory of the fun times I had in simpler times, watching late night TV & wrestling while eating pizza with Dan always seems to come to mind.
He was about 10 years older than me, and was a very angry person. I can't count on all my appendages the number of times his anger would show at my parents, or my grandmother, or me. He left home at 17; that is to say, he left our house and moved in with my grandmother. He and my father never got along well; Pop was a school teacher who believed in order and discipline and Dan was more of a free spirit who didn't like to be told what to do. Their major rift occurred when Dan was on the high school newspaper. Dan was in on a stunt that involved publishing a non-flattering story about the principal and one of the social studies teachers. There had always been a "hush hush" rumour the two were involved, and a story was published that pushed the limits of what satire high school journalists were allowed to invoke.
Dan was a bit of a self-centered guy; that is unless you asked anyone outside the family. I can't count the number of people who told me what a great guy he was. I generally remember the angry cursings he'd lay on Pop, or Mom, or Granny or occasionally me.
Tonight I read a story in the Charlotte Observer that brought back one good memory I have of my brother.
When I was about 8 or so, my grandmother lived across an empty field behind our house in a small neighborhood called Dal Wan Heights. You could see her home from my backyard, and that's the neighborhood I grew up in. Usually on the weekends, it was a big deal for me to walk across that field around dusk and spend the night on her living room sofa. Starting around 8, I could have the television to watch sitcoms like Brady Bunch, Love Boat, Sanford & Son, Fantasy Island, and then if I wasn't too tired I'd stay up for either the Late Show movie or saturday Night Live.
As Dan was in his late teens, he'd be out carousing with his buddies. Never a drinker or partier, he'd roll in around 11:30 or midnight and more often than not he had a Village Inn Pizza and 2 liter Pepsi tucked under his arm.
As much of a "pest" as I was, he'd usually offer me a slice or two of his pizza and pour me a glass of Pepsi. We'd then retire to his bedroom where he'd switch on his TV and turn it to reruns of Mid Atlantic Championship Wrestling.
There, we'd cheer on his favorites; Ric Fair & Greg Valentine, Sergeant Slaughter, The Four Horsemen, and a host of others whose names I've long forgotten. Occasionally, we'd have the beginning of a "deep" philosophical conversation, but usually it was a lot lighter. I think he just was really lonely and wanted some company before he slept.
Sometime after about 2AM, back in those days the National Anthem would play announcing the end of the broadcast day, then go to a test pattern. I'd retreat to the living room, and sleep until Granny woke around 9 and made me silver dollar pancakes with bacon.
Dan brought a lot of grief to my parents. He never really was able to support himself, and always seemed to make poor decisions about money management and the people in his life. In retrospect, he had a number of self esteem issues and was never able to establish anything more than superficial interpersonal relationships. The really sad thing is that he overlooked the very people in his family that could have been his cornerstone.
Still, on nights like tonight when I take inventory of the fun times I had in simpler times, watching late night TV & wrestling while eating pizza with Dan always seems to come to mind.
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